


The Merlin-Pillow

by doctoraicha



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3132866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctoraicha/pseuds/doctoraicha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine buys a pillow for Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Merlin-Pillow

Gwaine was looking on Etsy.com for a gift for his mate, Arthur – the weirder and more embarrassing, the better. Arthur’d bought him a box of condoms and lube for his birthday the previous month, and Gwaine had opened it in front of Ellie. Oh, it was _on_. And now, it was payback time.

Searching “creepy gifts” was time consuming, but he finally found the right one. The exact right one. He could even have it personalized for maximum embarrassment. 

_Maximum._

***** 

The gift had taken 4 weeks to arrive, despite Gwaine paying extra for a rush job. He’d sent in the photos, and what he received in return was….

_Fucking priceless._

Packaging it back in the enormous box the maker had sent it in, he trundled it down to his car and drove it over to the Green Dragon, storing it in Leon’s back room in advance of the party. Tied up in ribbons and bows, it dwarfed all the other gifts Arthur might get that night. 

A bloke only turns 25 once, after all.

***** 

Arthur straightened his collar, glancing at himself one last time as he left his flat. He didn’t have a date, but as usual he felt he could pull – and after all, it was his birthday. Anyway the only guy he wanted a date with had a boyfriend, and was one of his best mates apart from the Mordred problem, and _fuck, he was not going down that line of thought on his damned birthday._

It was enough that he thought about Merlin more than half the time as it was.

***** 

Arriving at the pub, Arthur was surprised that most of his friends were already there. He glanced at his phone and realized he was 10 minutes late – unusual for him, as he was typically punctual to a fault. Morgana looked a bit worried, but just then Leon popped into the backroom to bring a tray of drinks and the crowd forgot all about it. They had the room to themselves, which was a good thing as at least three dozen people were already there and more were arriving behind Leon. 

Arthur grinned as his friends caught sight of him and cheered the birthday boy. He grabbed an appetizer and popped it in his mouth before accepting a glass of champagne from Lance. Champagne was Arthur’s favorite.

It was nearly 8 by the time Merlin arrived, breathless and dragging an obviously reluctant Mordred behind him. “Sorry we’re late!” he said. “We haven’t missed presents, have we?” he added, brandishing a silver-wrapped box.

Gwaine grinned. “Right on time,” he said. “Arthur’s just getting started!”

Indeed he was. He’d unwrapped several shirts, a nice sweater, a new pen, and an assortment of alcohols. He wasn’t done, and he hadn’t gotten to Gwaine’s box yet. Merlin pitched his gift on top of the box, and Arthur continued. He opened the pride tee Merlin had picked out (a unicorn dancing on a rainbow, as if he’d wear it), and finally, _finally_ , got to the box.

Arthur was perplexed. This weird, squashy pillow thing seemed to be printed with a face, and it had arms. It was like… Merlin. Fuck, it had Merlin’s _face_ printed on it.

“Bought you a boyfriend, Pendragon,” Gwaine crowed. 

Arthur went a bit red, looking at the pillow. He stuffed it back into the box before anyone could get a proper look at it as his friends all laughed, catching on to the joke. No one really pushed it, but Arthur asked Leon to put the box behind the bar and told him, _for the love of god_ , don’t let anyone see it. 

***** 

A week later, Leon delivered the box to his flat. Arthur had “forgotten” it three times, and Leon was tired of having it in the way at his pub. 

“I don’t know what the hell this is, or why it bothers you so much,” Leon said. “It’s just Gwaine.”

Arthur colored a little. “Just give it here,” he said, and deposited the box in his bedroom.

“Come on, mate. What’s the big deal? It’s just a pillow shaped like a person. I mean, I know you don’t fancy Pattinson but it’s just a joke.”

“It’s not R.Patz, Leon,” Arthur said. “Gwaine had it printed to look like _Merlin_.”

Leon’s smile fell. “Fuck, mate. That’s cruel, even for him.”  
Arthur sighed. “He doesn’t know. I mean, I guess he might suspect, but I think it’s more that I give Merlin such a hard time.”

“I guess,” Leon said, and went to get a beer. He handed Arthur one. “Looks like you need one.”

“Damn it. I _know_ he doesn’t think of me that way. I mean it’s one boyfriend after the other. And none of them are even blond, as far as I know.”

Leon smiled. “Arthur, I’ve told you a thousand times he fancies you.”

“He’s never done a damned thing about it.”

“Neither have you, come to that,” Leon pointed out. 

Arthur looked at him, considering. “I did, once.”

“You never said!” 

“It was graduation night,” Arthur said. “I… I kissed him.”

“What happened?”

“I kissed him, and then I… I passed out.”

Leon laughed. “You were really pissed that night, mate.”

“Yeah. And the next day Merlin went to Rome, on that trip from his Mum, and when he came back he never mentioned it.

“And neither did you. God, you are so fucking emotionally constipated.”

“Well, that was that. I met Edwin that summer.”

“That wanker,” Leon said. “No wonder you went out with him. I never could understand what you saw in the slimy bastard.”

Arthur shrugged. “Under the bridge now, mate. Fuck. Why can’t I stop wanting him?”

It was Leon’s turn to shrug. “Same reason I can’t help wanting Morgana.” 

“Jesus Christ, she’s my sister, Leon.”

“Yeah, and she’s bloody perfect for me.”

Arthur held up his bottle. “You have my blessing,” he said.

“I’ve asked her out at least a dozen times. She never says yes.”

“Doesn’t want to hang a child on you,” Arthur said. Morgana had a daughter from a failed relationship with an arse called Helios. Keeping the baby with no support from Her father – or theirs, at first – had been rough. And Morgana was fiercely independent as a result. “Doesn’t think it’s fair.”

“Fuck fair,” Leon said. “I love Em, you know I do. Like she was my own.” 

“Fuck this,” Arthur said. “Mario Kart?”

***** 

Weeks passed, and Arthur ignored the box. Finally, he was forced to deal with it, since the box was becoming little more than a laundry pile. He tidied everything and then opened it. 

The pillow was still… creepy. It had a portrait of Merlin screen printed on its face, and black shaggy yard hair attached to the top. The arms of the pillow were beefier than Percy’s, and the legs were attached together like a mermaid tail. It was so weird. The rest of the portrait on the pillow looked like it was a kind of generic picture, wearing blue jeans and a red shirt, as if the artist had just printed off Merlin’s head and ironed it on the pillow’s case. 

It was a nice pillow, actually. The cover was cotton, and the stuffing was light and fluffy. Unable to resist, he gave it an experimental squeeze. It was kind of … nice. 

Shaking his head, he picked up the bin bag he’d planned to put in in and then he looked at the pillow’s face. _The pillow’s face_ , for fuck’s sake. And Merlin’s blue eyes stared at him as if saying, “Throwing me away, Arthur?”

He sighed. He’d just… he’d just put it in the closet and forget about it. 

***** 

And then his Dad died. Arthur felt as if he knew what shell-shock meant for the first time. He wasn’t ready to take over, he wasn’t ready to be responsible for all his employees’ lives. He wasn’t ready to be an orphan. Morgana had spent two days at his apartment, eyes dry and haunted. Neither of them could cry. It was so sudden. Uther was fighting fit and then… it had been a stroke. Morgana leaned on Leon, who was always there, and finally, she had admitted she’d been in love with him for three years. Life was too short, she’d said, and Leon would just have to take her on with Emily in tow. 

Arthur couldn’t cry. He didn’t, at the hospital when he’d only just been in time; he hadn’t even when Morgie finally broke down at the funeral, pouring her grief out onto Leon’s shoulders. 

He didn’t cry, even when he went into his father’s office and sat down at the CEO’s desk, his father’s desk, and Catrina had asked, “Will there be anything else, Mr. Pendragon?” and he hadn’t answered, because he hadn’t known she was talking to him.

He couldn’t sit in his flat doing nothing, and in the last three weeks he’d cleaned out his dresser, and his fridge, and his entertainment center; he’d scrubbed everything in the flat. He decided to clean out the storage cupboard under the stairs as a last resort. He hated that he couldn’t cry, like he couldn’t believe his father was gone.

And then, while he was clearing the cupboard out, he found the Merlin-pillow. 

Somehow, the Merlin-pillow looked sad. And that’s when Arthur lost it. 

He cried for his father, and for Merlin, and for himself. For his mother, and all his father’s friends. He cried for his father’s grandchildren that would never know him, and he cried for all his new responsibilities. And he hugged that pillow. And he took it to his room, and he cried himself to sleep.

***** 

The Merlin-pillow had been on his bed, to his shame, for two weeks, since the night he’d finally grieved for his father. 

But he couldn’t give it up. It was comfortable, and it _was_ comforting, and he liked the picture of Merlin on it. It was also, he admitted, creepy and weird. But no one had to know, and so he left it.

And left it. Months passed, and the pillow was starting to look a bit shabby. But Arthur was busy, and he hadn’t brought anyone back to the flat in ages, so what did it matter?

***** 

Arthur’s 26th birthday found them back at Leon’s pub. This time, Leon was sitting with his arm around Morgana, and Emily was tucked between them. The party was much more subdued – a sit down affair, again in the private dining room in back. Morgana had taken control of the kitchen and made the Dragon into one of the best gastropubs in the neighborhood. In fact, the back room was booked for another party at 9, and Leon had only squeezed him in because he was family.

It was a far more sober affair than the previous year, but still, a few revelers were loathe to go home at 8:30 on a Friday night, however grown up they were. Arthur, warmed by the three glasses of French champagne he’d consumed, invited Gwaine and Elena, Merlin, Lance and Gwen, and Leon and Morgana back to his flat for cake – which he’d bough for himself, thank you – cocktails, and a movie (Arthur suggested “Fellowship of the Rings” and Gwaine and Elena excused themselves, while Leon and Morgana protested that Emily needed to be in bed soon).

Lance, Gwen, and Merlin accompanied Arthur back to his flat. The promised cake was cut, and the wine was passed around. Lance and Gwen were preparing to escape before Arthur made them watch the Two Towers, and Lance went for a slash while Arthur escorted Gwen to the door. Merlin had stood, and was hopping from one foot to the other in Arthur’s hallway. “I’ll just use the ensuite, Arthur,” he called, and before Arthur could protest Merlin was off up the stairs. Lance emerged only moments later, and he and Gwen called their goodbyes up to Merlin. 

Closing the door behind his friends, Arthur could only pray to whatever deities might be listening that the body pillow was under the duvet, or that Merlin wouldn’t notice, or something. 

Minutes passed, and each seemed like an hour. Arthur stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, until he saw Merlin’s face appear around the corner. 

It was pillow-Merlin’s face.

 _Oh, god._ Arthur felt his face go red, and his stomach sink to the floor.

Merlin appeared then, with a look on his face that Arthur could only describe as horrified and confused. He was holding the pillow.

Arthur dropped his head to his chest. 

“Fuck.”

Merlin was coming down the stairs, and he still hadn’t said anything. 

He reached the bottom before he did. “Arthur, what…” he paused, and looked at the pillow. “Um, what…”

“It’s the pillow Gwaine gave me last year,” Arthur said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was either way too drunk for this conversation or not nearly drunk enough.

“Ok. But why is my picture on it?”

Arthur pursed his lips. “Who knows why Gwaine does anything?”

“Fair point. But…. why keep it?”

Arthur looked up, and felt that his heart was in his stomach. “I couldn’t bin it, not with your face on it.”

Merlin looked stunned. “But you… why?”

“Do I have to spell it out?” Arthur said, and turned away, feeling his face was hotter than ever. 

Merlin just stood there, looking gobsmacked. “But you… but you never said anything!”

Arthur stood with his back to Merlin. “When should I have said something, Merls? When you came back from Rome, and pretended nothing had happened? When I came out and you tried to set me up with your mate Tristan? Maybe the night you met Mordred, that fuck, and couldn’t stop talking about him? Maybe when he dumped you and you came over to cry on my shoulder and eat all my crisps? Or how about when you were dating that asshat from your architecture 1101 class, what the hell was his name? I hated that guy.”

“John.”

“What?” Arthur said, whirling around. 

“He was called John.”

“What the hell has that got to do with anything? Look, just,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Just go, and let me get over you in peace. I promise to get rid of the pillow.”

Merlin stared at him for several long moments. And then, he squared his shoulders. “Get over me? Why? I don't think _I’ll_ ever get over _you_ ,” Merlin said, matter of factly.

It was Arthur’s turn to gawp like a fish. “What?”

“I’ve been half in love with you since the day we met, you _utter prat_ , and I thought you were straight then! And then you kissed me that time, and I didn’t want to be an experiment! And then you bloody _came out_ and all I could think is that _I wasn’t good enough for you that time_ so I tried to get you to go out with someone and I went out with someone else and _fuck, Arthur_! Look at you, and your bronzed-god looks, and your damned company and your bloody two level flat, and look at me and my fledging firm and village roots and stick out ears?” Tears welled up in Merlin’s eyes.

Arthur seized him. “You’re perfect,” he said, cradling Merlin’s face. “Perfect, _god_ , so perfect,” he said.

And then they kissed. Neither could be sure, after, who had closed the last few inches. Maybe they both did. Their teeth clashed, and they jostled a little before they finally slotted into place. Tears spilled over – Merlin’s, and Arthur wiped them off those perfect cheekbones with his thumbs. 

Arthur broke the kiss. “I love you. And if we do this, that’s it. That’s it for me, forever. I won’t be able to let you go. Pendragon men can’t – when Dad lost Mum that was it for him, too. And it will kill me if you ever change your mind and leave me.”

“I never will. My heart would be left behind if I did, so what would be the point?” Merlin sniffed. “Marry me, Arthur?” Merlin blurted, surprising himself. “You won’t need this stupid pillow any more if you do,” he said.

Arthur took Merlin upstairs then, and wrote his answer on Merlin’s skin.

***** 

Three weeks later, Arthur held a dinner at his flat, and invited all their closest friends. The pillow-Merlin was propped in the corner of the leather sofa, and everyone was laughing about it when Merlin came in. They all gave him the side-eye of worry. No one wanted him to be embarrassed.

Finally Gwaine had to ask. “What do you think of the Princess’s new lounge pillow?” he said.

“Oh, that thing,” Merlin said, nodding to the pillow. “I love it.”

Everyone looked surprised. “But don’t you think it’s weird? I mean, why does he have it? And why leave it out whilst he’s in the kitchen?”

“I like it there,” Arthur said, entering the room with a tray of champagne. He passed a glass around to everyone and then, surprising his friends, he slid an arm around Merlin’s waist. 

“Here, what’s going on?’ Will said, sitting up. Leon seemed to catch on fastest, and was grinning when Merlin began.

“Arthur and I want to announce that I’ve moved in here,” Merlin began. “I asked-”

“And we got married!” Arthur broke in to hoist up their hands, rings glinting in the light. 

“No time like the present, right?” Merlin put in, somewhat uncertainly. 

Gwen laughed, then, jumping up to hug them both. That broke the ice. Everyone was hugging them, laughing, crying, and congratulating them both. Morgana threatened to kill them for not telling her.

Gwaine just looked smug. “I didn’t know you had it in you, mate,” said Gwaine to Arthur. “Thought you’d just pine from afar. But then, no one reckoned on my superior matchmaking skills.”

Arthur just threw the Merlin-pillow at him while their friends toasted their happiness.


End file.
